


A Little Accident

by Sohotthateveryonedied



Series: Whumptober 2019 [17]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Broken Bones, Gen, Implied DickBabs, Prompt: Muffled scream, Setting broken bones, you can tell this was rushed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-23 19:09:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21086363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sohotthateveryonedied/pseuds/Sohotthateveryonedied
Summary: Tim breaks his arm and goes to Barbara for help.





	A Little Accident

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Muffled Scream

It’s twelve past midnight when Barbara thinks to herself, not for the first time:  _ Since when did people tapping on my window in the middle of the night start being considered normal?  _ No doubt there’s a correlation between that and the beginning of her Batgirl career.   
  
She pulls aside the curtains, expecting to be met with a bright smile and blue tights. Dick’s been slacking on the bootie calls lately; always busy in Bludhaven doing whatever it is that day-cop vigilantes do.    
  
As it turns out, she’s got the wrong Boy Wonder.    
  
“Hey Babs,” Tim says sheepishly. He crouches on the ledge, the gray sky a backdrop to his silhouette.    
  
“Wonder Boy Junior,” she says. “What a pleasant surprise.”   
  
“Mind if I come in? There’s mosquitoes out here and I’m allergic to West Nile Virus.”    
  
“I think  _ everyone  _ is allergic to West Nile Virus.” Still, she unlatches the window and wheels backward to give him room to climb in. Tim drops down from the sill, and the moment he straightens up Barbara knows something is wrong. It’s in the way he holds his right arm protectively against his chest, wincing with every movement.    
  
“I’m assuming this isn’t a friendly visit?” she says.    
  
“What, I can’t come by to hang out without having a reason?” His mouth twists upward, but falls again when Barbara’s expectant expression doesn’t change. “Okay, fine. So I  _ might _ have had a little accident.”    
  
Barbara shakes her head, but there’s humor in it. “All right, come on,” she says. “The doctor’s in I guess.” She pushes off in the direction of the living room, light footsteps following behind her.   
  
She steers him toward the couch. “Sit. I’ll be right back.”    
  
She goes to the hall closet and digs around for her first-aid kit, which she’s been using to patch up broken birds more and more often these days. At this rate she might as well convert her dining room into a med bay for all the vigilantes who drop by at crazy hours for medical help. Like Santa Claus, but bloodier.    
  
Tim’s taken off his mask and cape by the time she returns. There’s a purple bruise blossoming beneath his eye that she missed earlier. She rolls to a stop in front of him and holds out her hand, palm turned upward. “Broken arm, I’m guessing?”   
  
He relinquishes it with a grim smile. “Sharp eye, detective.”    
  
Barbara tries to be as gentle as possible, but it’s safe to say that ship has sailed. The arm is clearly broken—bent at an awkward angle that’s got to be painful as hell. His forearm is dark and swollen, and there’s a bump in the skin that she knows right away is bone.    
  
She winces. “Fight gone wrong?”    
  
“I swear that meta came out of nowhere.”    
  
Babs prods at the break. Tim bites down on a squeak. “Why didn’t you go back to the cave?” she asks. “Fight with Bruce?”   
  
“You say that like it’s a common occurrence.”   
  
“Have you met the guy?”   
  
“Good point.”   
  
She rifles through the kit for a sling and some ace bandages. “Dick used to spend the night here pretty much every time he and B got into it. So...once or twice a week.”   
  
Tim chuckles. “Well don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair soon. I was just too chicken to set the bone myself.”    
  
“Alfred could have done it.”   
  
There’s that sheepish look again. “I...might not have been officially allowed to patrol tonight.”   
  
Barbara arches an eyebrow.    
  
“Hey, if Batman told  _ you  _ to stay home for a week, would you?”    
  
She purses her lips, thinking it over. “All right, you got me.” Then, as an afterthought, she goes to the kitchen and grabs a handful of ice packs from the freezer, talking over her shoulder. “Though it probably depends on why I was benched in the first place.”   
  
When she looks back, Tim’s chewing his cheek. “It was only a small fracture. Barely more than a crack.”   
  
Barbara tosses over an ice pack on her return, and Tim mumbles a thanks before pressing it gingerly to the welt on his face.    
  
“So, let me get this straight,” she says. “You broke your arm, and Bruce told you to hold off on patrolling for a while like any responsible person would. But instead of doing that, you went out and made it even worse. Like a dumbass.”    
  
“Pretty much, yeah.”   
  
She shakes her head. “For a kid genius, you’re a major idiot.” She grasps his elbow in one hand and his wrist in the other. “I’m going to set it now, okay?”   
  
Tim nods and braces himself for the pain, but at the last moment Barbara hesitates. Her eyes scour the room, searching until— _ ah.  _ Perfect. She picks a shirt up off the floor. (Thank goodness for sloppy habits.) She pushes it into Tim’s free hand. “Here, bite down on this.”   
  
He makes a face. “Is it clean?”   
  
“Would you rather have my neighbors calling the police to report puberty-cracking screams in the middle of the night?”    
  
His cheeks flush. “It doesn’t crack that much.” But at Barbara’s unyielding stare he rolls his eyes and balls up the fabric, shoving it in his mouth. He gives her a thumbs-up and shuts his eyes tight.    
  
She tightens her grip. “One...two...” In one fluid movement, she snaps the bone back into place.    
  
Tim  _ screams _ . It’s effectively muffled by the shirt, but Jesus  _ Christ _ the kid has a set of lungs. Barbara’s quick to start wrapping it up, while Tim takes deep breaths and waits for the ache to wane to a manageable level.    
  
After a few minutes he cracks open an eye, taking the fabric out of his mouth. “Bruce is going to kill me, isn’t he.”    
  
“Oh absolutely. You’re as good as fried, my friend.” Tim sighs, and Barbara pats his hand. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll let you patrol again in a few months.”   
  
Hope dares to alight. “You really think so?”   
  
“Totally. You know, after he gives you thirty or so lectures on the importance of not being stupid and fighting crime while injured. I think he’s got a PowerPoint for that.”    
  
Tim groans.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> [Feel free to mosey on down to my Tumblr!](http://sohotthateveryonedied.tumblr.com/)


End file.
